


Happiness Can Be Found If You Fight For It

by FightMeImSmall



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Heartache, Hurt Andrew, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Stalking, With a happy ending!, but it's not permanent, gay?, i dont think it will get graphic dw, im s o r r y, the Big Sad, uhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25455325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightMeImSmall/pseuds/FightMeImSmall
Summary: What if no one had found out about Neil and Andrew?What if Neil was forcefully taken into witness protection?What if all the foxes thought Neil was dead?What if Andrew made a deal with the enemy to get him back?
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 18
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter one

It had been almost two months. Three months since they’d first met their freshmen. Two months since classes had started up for the year. And almost two months since –

Andrew took a drag of his cigarette. The roof was cold and boring when he was alone, but it was better than being alone and bored in his dorm room. Kevin no doubt watching Exy, Nicky trying to come by and offer support despite weeks of rejection. Aaron’s concerned glances but overall silence. The upperclassmen’s complete disregard for Andrew’s group at the current time was both welcome and infuriating. It wasn’t just their loss.

He had long since stopped pretending to Neil that he didn’t care for him. They had been small, slow, steps, but Andrew had taken that big first step. The one where he allowed himself to feel. And it had been the stupidest damn decision of his life. Now, even though it was over and never going to happen again, Andrew still honoured his last deal with Neil. It was been one taken on credit too, and the damn fool hadn’t lived long enough for Andrew to name his price.

If he could now he knew what he’d ask. It was ridiculous to even think about and yet the thought refused to be repressed. Andrew was good at repressing things, or so he’d thought. Until the Junkie had come along and suddenly Andrew’s careful control had slipped and couldn’t be tamed anymore.

That one thought. If I could name my price. It would be you.

The cigarette fizzled out of life, Andrew’s ability to focus was at an all-time low had allowed it to burn out. The only thing that managed to break through his disrupted thoughts was Exy and it was all Neil’s fault. Him and his stupid deal.

_“What would it take for you to help me this year?”_

_“I want to succeed Andrew.”_

_“I want to come out fighting.”_

_“What would you want in return for paying attention?”_

The idiot had been unnecessarily concerned about what his second year might hold. Worried about living up to the impossible standard they’d set last year. They wouldn’t win again. Worried it would just go downhill and he’d never make pros and he’d die a pathetic death at the hands of the yakuza. 

The deal was that Andrew would try in games. Practices were negotiable on a day by day basis. And even though Neil was dead now and his deal should be null and void, and yet in his Exy gear, standing in the goal, listening to the foxes bicker and fight, watching the strikers take shot after shot, those were the moments Andrew felt closest to Neil. For every impossible save, every pre-emptive move Andrew made, every heavy, sweaty, breath he made, he could picture Neil’s reaction. The way he’d chew his lip, the way his eyes would fill with heat, a slow, determined smile brightening up that stupidly beautiful face of his.

Neil had found Exy exhilarating. Andrew had found Neil exhilarating. And even though he hated Exy, even though he hated Neil for making him feel, Andrew was now more addicted to this sad reminder of Neil than he ever had been to any drug.

Next to him on the roof, his phone buzzed. He had placed it next to him alongside Neil’s; which for some ridiculous reason he couldn’t let go of. It went everywhere with him, always charged. Probably moreso than Neil had ever kept it.

_Kevin_ : _Practice. 20min._

Annoyance flared softly in the pit of Andrews stomach. Kevin had taken to giving Andrew reminders for stupid things. Stupid because Andrew hated that he might need them, time had a way of getting away from him recently. Stupid because Kevin was probably the only person who had noticed the change in Andrew since Neil’s death. And Andrew _hated_ that Kevin knew something was up. Andrew hated that something was even up to begin with.

Flicking his cigarette off the roof, Andrew stood up and went down to the dorm room to collect his bag. The hallway was mercifully empty. Renee’s quiet concern, Nicky’s loud grief, Reynold’s lashing out. All of them were too much, always too much. Bee’s therapy was working too well, an errant thought said. Normally Andrew would seek out the confrontation, seek out the pain of others. Seek out the way it hurt him.

Kevin gave a noncommittal grunt as Andrew entered. Five minutes later the two of them headed out, ignoring the sounds of their teammates scrabbling to get ready behind them, slightly irked by the sounds of their laughter and chatter.

“Hey wait up!” called Nicky’s voice as he and Aaron left their dorm but neither Kevin nor Andrew slowed.

Andrew would wait for them in the car. The longer he could be alone with himself the better. When Neil had first died Wymack had offered to reshuffle the rooms, have Aaron or Nicky move back in with him and Kevin. Andrew had just stared at him blankly and said “no.”

Wymack had let it drop. With the way the team stood now, there would be an empty bed no matter what. Wymack had spoken to Andrew separately two days after Neil had –

“Just let me know if you need anything, okay?” Wymack had said finally after two minutes of heavy silence where he tried to figure out what to say.

Wymack and his damned perception. He’d known there was something between Andrew and Neil before either of them had fully realised it. But when Andrew couldn’t muster up any sort of response, too tired to even be cutting, that was somehow worse. The look in Wymack’s eyes, the understanding filtering in through Andrew’s muddled brain that his coach considered Andrew, the monster, one of _his_ , and was hurting for him.

Maybe that was why a few practices in after- maybe that was why Wymack held Kevin at bay. Kevin and his damn obsessiveness and need to discuss everything Exy. Kevin was chomping at the bit to understand why Andrew was now somewhat partaking in training. But Wymack had warned him off

“- Kevin, I swear to god, if you want this to continue, you won’t mention it.” Andrew had overheard as he and Renee had jogged past in silence.

Renee may not have understood all that was going on, but she allowed Andrew his silence. She’d definitely noticed their lack of sparring. Andrew just didn’t have the energy for it. What was the point in fighting? It had yet to work out for him.

Andrew rolled the window and lit up a cigarette in the car, smoking as he drove. The smoke was another reminder. A habit that had increased exponentially for its simultaneous dose of comfort and grief. Was this how Neil had felt while smoking? Comfort and loss all rolled up in one.

They arrived at the court fairly quickly, Andrew didn’t even remember the drive. Hadn’t noticed if Nicky had attempted his usual useless chatter. Unaware of any attempt Kevin might have made to discuss Exy. All he knew was that he was now parked and the others were climbing out of the car.

Aaron raised a questioning eyebrow at him and nodded when Andrew held up his unfinished cigarette. A few more moments of solitude. Another moment of comfort and loss, practice. Andrew didn’t want to go and knew that he wouldn’t want to leave.

He watched the upperclassmen arrive, all chatter and thinly veiled arguments. Instigators and antagonists. Even Renee with her endless calm and patience. She turned to Andrew’s car to give him a soft smile, before entering the court. The freshmen were yet to be seen, but perhaps that was for the best. To be inside before they infected the space with their thoughts and opinions that they didn’t seem to realise didn’t matter. He may not like the upperclassmen, but at least he knew they understood. Everyone on the team last year knew how important Neil was. They were his family.

Flicking away the stub, Andrew headed inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would be weird to ask if any lines stick out to you? Like, comment your favourite line below? 
> 
> I'm just curious.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TW* mentions of self-harm, I think general canon TW apply?

Andrew knew something was wrong before he pushed open the door to the lounge. The surface tension of an energy change, straining. Almost imperceptible. If Andrew had thought it applied to him in anyway, if he’d been in a frame of mind to think with any sort of clarity, he might have been prepared.

Entering the room was like letting air into a vacuum seal. All heads turned to him. Dan and Matt, wrecked and searching. Searching Andrew for something. Nicky, distraught. Brimming with heartache. Aaron and Allison both in near incomprehension. But there was hurt there too, though different in their execution, a similar turmoil. Wymack, aged and tired. And then there was Renee, except she was Natalie. She had that blank calm that Andrew recognised as a deep, destructive anger. Not directed at Andrew, but for him. Why for him? What had earned the heartache and wrath of Natalie?

It took a second for him to get the snapshot of his teammates, and just one more for him to take in the room at large. He felt his eyes widen, his lips fall slightly open as the air in his lungs left his body. The expression was gone in a moment, but it had been there a moment too long. He had been seen. His breath too loud in the silent room.

Those few moments were all Andrew needed for his brief lapse in control and subsequent shut down. In that moment he saw the walls. The walls of the lounge were plastered floor to ceiling with pictures of him and Neil. A lot of which were of them just in close proximity to one another, Neil shooting Andrew a sidelong look, instigating as usual, smirk full of teasing and heat. Neil and Andrew facing one another too close for there to be no tension between them as they gazed at one another. In the car, in Sweeties, studying, grabbing coffee. And a countless myriad of them on the roof, sometimes lit by the sunset or sunrise, sometimes by the flare of their cigarettes.

Those were the tame photos. For the larger printed photos showed moments of contact. Neil pulling Andrew along a promenade by the hand, walking backwards and grinning at Andrew. Neil placing a kiss on top of Andrew’s head. Neil leaning into the firm touch of Andrew’s hand on his neck. Neil getting distracted from studying by Andrew’s hand through his hair, his eyes drifting shut. Neil’s soft smile as Andrew rested his forehead on Neil’s shoulder. Of them kissing. Kissing everywhere. The court, in the car, on the car bonnet, in Eden’s, on the roof, everywhere and anywhere they had kissed. Sometimes hard and hot, others softer, gentler. Sometimes wrapped up entirely in one another, hands gripping, grabbing, touching. Sometimes there was a clear gap between their bodies, hands in pockets as they leant in for something chaste.

And a few, only a handful, of them asleep. The one time they’d curled up together on the lounge sofa together, Andrew curled around Neil’s back, nose buried in Neil’s neck. Another time on the beanbags in their dorm room, facing one another, foreheads nearly touching, Andrew’s hand over Neil’s. The one stupid time they’d fallen asleep on the roof, laying back, Neil curled against Andrew’s side.

It was too much. Andrew needed to leave. And if he was smart, find Bee.

“ _Andrew._ ” Nicky. Distraught as usual. A soft, harsh, breathy utterance of grief. For his fallen friend. For his broken cousin.

Andrew had already turned, his hand out to push the door, when it opened. He didn’t recognise the man who entered. He did recognise the object in his hand. Even after the deaths of father and son, Nathan Wesninski’s circle were still trying to cause Neil pain.

“Stay.” the new arrival said, gun pointed at Andrew, his voice was monotone. 

Andrew stared at the gun and felt a brief flicker of longing. The man must have noticed the look in his eye, or at the very least been aware that Andrew had little to no self regard, because he turned it away from Andrew to someone behind his shoulder. Most likely his brother. Seething anger nudging at Andrew. Angry at having a brother, angry at wanting to protect him. 

“Cared a lot for your missing striker, didn’t you?” he continued, pausing for Andrew to speak. Andrew stared at him, face devoid. He sighed. “I needed to make sure we’re on the same page here.”

Again, Andrew said nothing. The man raised an unimpressed eyebrow and pointed a small remote to the tv in the lounge.

The sound of Neil’s laughter filled the room and Andrew recognised immediately the exact moment this had been. His eyes flicked to the tv, unable to resist the urge to see Neil’s bright smile again.

_“Andrew!”_ Tv-Neil gasped as he laughed. Hands wrapped over his stomach as he struggled for breath. Eyes so very, very, bright and alive.

“What the fuck, Josten.” Tv-Andrew’s voice was flat, his expression flat. But of course, Neil could still read it.

“Oh my god.” Tv-Neil continued to laugh at him. “The _look_ on your face.”

“What the fuck is this? 80%?” Tv-Andrew continued.

“90.” Tv-Neil replied, attempting to stifle his too-wide grin.

“You gave me 90% dark chocolate?” The offence, the disgust, in Tv-Andrew’s voice was seeping through, not helping the laughter Neil was trying to suppress.

“It was so, so worth it.”

“120%, Josten.” Tv-Neil just threw his head back and laughed harder.

The stranger with a gun clicked the remote again and the screen flicked to Andrew and Neil sitting on the car bonnet, each with a cigarette in hand. The audio was low due to the distance, but their words were still clear.

“Whatever makes you happy.” Tv-Neil huffed a laugh at whatever Andrew had just said to him.

“I’m never happy.” Tv-Andrew replied automatically. Tv-Neil turned his head to Tv-Andrew, a question clearly bubbling under the surface. Tv-Andrew flicked him a look before turning to gaze out. “But I’d settle for content.”

Tv-Neil’s lips parted, eyes filled with something Tv-Andrew had purposefully made sure not to see.

The remote was clicked again. This time Tv-Neil and Andrew were in Eden’s. Tv-Andrew was pulling Tv-Neil through the crowd by his belt loops, walking backwards, stopping and pulling Neil flush against him. Andrew’s hands moving to slide around Neil’s hips, Neil’s hands above his head. He’d allowed his hips to be swayed with Andrew’s by the music. Eyes growing hazy with want as their foreheads pressed together, noses grazing, lips millimetres apart. Andrew’s whispering and a second later Neil’s arms wrapping around Andrew’s shoulders as they –

“Enough.” Andrew’s voice was low and firm. “That’s enough.”

“I could keep going. Are we on the same page?” Remote pressing pause. Andrew gave the smallest of nods, wishing he had his knives on him.

His sessions with Betsy still happened, but Andrew had all but given up on talking. Bee had known not to push, but she’d also asked Andrew for his knives, with the promise to return them when she felt sure he wouldn’t hurt himself. He’d thought of Neil when he handed them over. He didn’t think he would, but he’d definitely thought about it. And that was enough to not trust himself.

“You may have heard of me from Nathaniel. My name is Jackson Plank.” Jackson said plainly.

Andrew did recognise that name. Jackson flickered an eye behind Andrew and jerked the gun. The other foxes also recognised the name, a fact that Jackson seemed irked by.

“I find myself in need of your help. I was closing in on Nathaniel, waiting for a moment when he was alone and not by your side.” Jackson’s eyes looked Andrew up and down in distain. “Which he almost never was. Not for long anyhow. I just needed it over with you see, I just needed him dead. Romero jumped the gun, the fool. I didn’t even know he was in town, I suppose I should have seen it coming. He’s after revenge, vengeance for the death of his sycophantic sister and old master. He’s after Nathaniel’s pain more than his removal. He went after you that day, junior just got in the way.”

The silence grew as Andrew interpreted those words. Ignoring the hissing of the foxes behind him as inconsequential. Jackson seemed impatient for Andrew to understand and clicked the remote again.

This time, instead of marring the few good memories Andrew had, he was forcing him to relieve the worst. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He had to understand.

Tv-Neil jabbered on about learning Russian, lamenting his lack of ease picking it up. Tv-Andrew quipping about just needing to memorise the vocabulary.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you have an eidetic memory.” Tv-Neil rolled his eyes.

“I don’t remember telling you that.” Tv-Andrew turned his head to regard Tv-Neil, eyes drinking in the sight of his smug partner. His fatal mistake it seemed now as Tv-Neil’s smug smile turned into a hard, determined, look. There was cursing behind the camera too, Tv-Jackson noticing what Neil had. 

Crashing into Andrew’s side put Neil directly in the line of Romero’s knife. And then Tv-Neil did the thing you’re not supposed to do. He took out the knife. Flipping it expertly on Romero stopped the onslaught, had the mobster gasping with a knife slashing from his shoulder to hip. The cut deep enough to have Romero retreating hastily as Andrew caught a fading Neil.

Choking and gasping Neil gazed up at Andrew. Andrew in turn pressing a hand hard onto the wound that refused to stop bleeding.

“Stay.” Tv-Andrew said. “Neil, you have to stay.”

Jackson stopped the tv once more. “After you, see?”

There were choked noises behind him from the foxes who had been spared watching Neil die the first time around. Had been spared watching him choke, unable to say anything at all. Had been spared being covered in the only in his blood. They’d all been together though, sat in the waiting room of the hospital, when Wymack had returned from talking to the doctor’s and said in a raspy voice, “He never made it off the table.”

Andrew ignored them, raising his chin at Jackson.

“Now I’m going to give you a gift, Andrew, a gift and a deal. I’ve heard you like deals.”

Andrew felt a familiar feral feeling begging to be released in the pit of his gut. He hadn’t felt it for a while. It wasn’t an inclination to make a deal, it was the desire to destroy someone’s life.

“Romero is still out for blood. I will protect you and yours –” Eyes flicking over the foxes once more. “from him. All you need to do is bring Nathaniel back to Palmetto.”

Andrew blinked, the confusion a sentiment that must be evident on the foxes faces if Jackson’s eyes going back and forth were anything to go by.

“Oh.” He said. “Nathaniel isn’t dead.”

Andrew hadn’t realised how much noise was in the room until it ceased in its entirety. The foxes’ murmurings, stopped. Nicky’s gradually harsh breathing, held. That damned telly no longer showcasing Andrew’s well kept secrets.

Andrew took a slow step toward Jackson, the snarling, ravaging feeling in his gut growing in intensity. Jackson sent him an unimpressed look.

“All I had to do was get my hands on the hospital security system.” The derision in his voice clear and cutting.

Andrew should have known it had been him Neil was protecting. Andrew should have known to tear the hospital apart before accepting Neil’s death. Andrew and his constant and relentless, never-ending failings.

The tv jumped to action again, showcasing a hospital room and a slowly waking Neil. Standing on either side of his bed, Agent Browning and Agent Towns.

“Andrew?” Tv-Neil’s voice raspy. “Oh. You fuckers. Don’t worry I’m still alive, now kindly fuck off.”

Tv-Browning ignored him and went straight for the kill. “You’re going into Witness Protection.”

“No!” Tv-Neil gasped, jerking upright, immediately causing him to wince.

“You’re not getting a choice.” Tv-Towns replied, a slight unrestrained glee in his eye.

“They won’t let me go. The foxes will come for me, and god help you when Andrew does.” Tv-Neil bit out, hand over his wound that he’d likely pulled when sitting up.

“They won’t.” Tv-Browning said, and in response to tv-Neil’s look continued, “They think you’re dead.”

Tv-Neil’s eyes widened, horrified. “You can’t do that to them. I can’t do that to him. I can't keep doing this to them.”

“Like we said, you’re not getting a choice.” Tv-Towns smiled.

A nurse came through the door, shooting Towns and Browning distasteful looks before complying to a command to put him out.

Tv-Neil’s eyes drooped but he smiled, the cold smile of his father. “You best catch Romero before I wake up, because I promise you, I will not be sticking around.”

“See, a gift.” Jackson said, finally turning off the telly. He held up a usb stick with the hand that had previously held a remote. “Get Nathaniel back here, and I’ll keep Romero from you. If Romero makes a mess of the foxes the feds will keep Nathaniel under close guard and the little shit will be out of reach for the foreseeable future. I want the brat gone and I’m not patient. Do we have a deal?”

Disgusting, unbidden, emotions swirled in Andrew. Without uttering a word, he held his hand out for the usb. Jackson’s face split into a smile. Thin and unwelcoming. Usb dropped into Andrew’s palm.

"The fox cubs should be here soon, car trouble kept them I hear." Jackson backed out of the room, pausing before leaving completely. "I'll leave you a day of respite when he returns, but trust me when I say I won't let him live a day longer." 

Andrew waited another moment to act. The side of his fist slamming against the wall, hopefully cracking a bone or two. The noise seemed to jolt the foxes.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Nicky repeated in a whisper over and over.

Matt’s hitching breath was hastening and growing in volume. 

“He’s _alive_. He’s alive.” Dan’s voice chanting low and reassuring.

“Andr-” Aaron started.

“Don’t.” Andrew’s voice was cold and enough to quieten the distressed noises of the foxes.

Not turning around, not willing to look at them and see them look a him. With their pity and assumptions. Probable anger and definite pain. Instead Andrew reached into his pocket and took out the phone he’d kept on him for six and a half and flipped it open, finding the number easily in Neil’s limited contacts.

It rang twice before answering. He didn’t allow them to speak.

“Browning.” Andrew snarled, finally released the monster that had been itching for so long. “You have something of mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Andrew. Life is pain but at least your boo is still alive? Right?
> 
> Btw the song they're totally 100% dancing to in Eden's is Dance Monkey by Tones and I. 
> 
> Also hit me up if you wanna know what scenes got deleted from being shown to the room of unsuspecting foxes and and poor Andrew who Did Not Deserve That
> 
> Comment below if there's a line that really stuck out to you!


	3. Chapter Three

The conversation was snappy. Sharp. Andrew felt his tongue lashing, wishing he could borrow Neil’s innate ability to cut someone down with quick wit and harsh truths. Not that he couldn’t ream someone out, but Andrew was better at threats. Browning let Andrew bite out some threats, let him lay out his terms, before stating one thing. One small sentence that sent Andrew reeling for the second time that day.

“We don’t have him anymore.”

Andrew went silent. Jaw tensing to stop himself biting through his tongue. The need to rip something apart causing him to grip the phone too tightly.

“What do you mean.” He said slowly. “You don’t have him. Any. More.”

There was a ripple through the foxes that Andrew stoutly ignored. His concentration on the pathetically breakable shitty piece of plastic in his hand blocked out everything else. Almost blocked out Browning’s reply.

“He gave us the slip.”

But the words were irrelevant. Andrew had already figured that out; Neil had promised them as much. The real question was why hadn’t Neil tried to contact him. He didn’t have his phone, and Andrew knew for a fact there was no fucking way Neil had any number memorised. Neil wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, distinctive combination of piercing blue eyes and auburn hair, not to mention the scars.

Neil had once said after letting his phone die _again_ , that if his phone died and he needed help he’d just ask anyone in Exy merch to help him contact Palmetto and “sorted.” It had half been a joke, but it would probably work.

Except this time Neil was running from the mob _and_ the FBI. And there was no way for Neil to know that the foxes knew he was alive again and were able to negotiate for him. Cold swept through Andrew as understanding washed through him. Neil’s little rabbit running and hiding needs were currently in overdrive, he could be fucking anywhere.

“Well he promised you as much.” Andrew ran his tongue over his teeth. “Where were you holding him when he got loose?”

“We can’t answer that –”

“Not what I asked.” Answer cut him off, voice hard. “Where did you have him last?”

There was silence on the other end of the line. “Arizona.”

Arizona. It could be worse. It could be much worse. The question now was whether Neil was heading back to Palmetto or not. No doubt he’d recognised Romero coming for him, or rather, for Andrew. Would the idiot not return in an attempt to protect the foxes? Most likely. Unless he finally started using that brain of his. There was no way of knowing.

“Andrew…” Renee called gently, breaking him out of his thoughts. The soft, calm cadence of her voice irking him immensely. Almost as much as not knowing how long he’d been lost in thought irked him.

Andrew's hand flexed around the phone. "How long ago did you lose him?" 

"Two days." Two days, Neil had only been lost in the world for two days. Had Jackson known that? Most likely not. Two days ago was Neil more in reach than he was today? 

“Come near him again, you’ll regret it.” Andrew said, snapping the phone shut without waiting for a reply. Threatening the FBI was probably not great, but what did Andrew care. He didn’t.

“What the fuck.” Reynolds spoke up because of course she fucking did.

“Allison –” Renee attempted to cull Reynold’s inevitable bitching.

Turning Andrew saw Renee’s hand on Allison’s arm, but the blonde didn’t seem to care or notice. Her wild eyes bore into Andrew’s bored ones. His mask was in place, and it would stay there.

“No. No! I think we all deserve to know what the fuck… just what the fuck?” Her free arm swept out to gesture at the walls of photographs.

“Deserve.” Andrew tested the word on his tongue. It tasted acrid. Wrong. He hated that word, it seemed.

Dan stepped forward, ever the pacifier. “I think we can all agree that what just happened was a shock to everyone. I think it’s important we focus on the fact that Neil is alive.”

Her voice broke on the last three words, causing Boyd to step toward her and offer his comfort. She curled into him arms willingly, easily. Breathing in his support.

“Fuck that!” Reynolds started again. She glared at Andrew again. “You’ve had his phone the whole time. The whole damn time. You –”

She broke herself off this time. Andrew raised his eyebrow, but inwardly he knew why she was so angry. He’d noticed Neil’s phone buzzing every so often with texts from the foxes. He hadn’t read any of them, but he’d noticed those who’d texted him most. Allison was the only fox who still even six weeks later still sent him a text near every day. 

Flicking his eyes to his group, Andrew noticed Aaron and Nicky in similar states. They wanted to know more too, he could see it in their frozen faces. It was honestly shocking that Nicky hadn’t said anything yet. Andrew skipped looking at Kevin, and over Renee too, he didn't want to know what their faces had to offer him, to look at Wymack.

“Shut them up, keep them away from me, and tear this shit down.” Andrew ordered, waiting only to see the acknowledgement in Wymack’s eyes.

“Coach, you can’t just –”

Andrew had already started leaving, the door swinging closed behind him as he heard Wymack attempt to corral the foxes. He left the building and headed straight for his car, slowing only when he saw the freshman foxes arriving.

“Sorry we’re late!” One of the idiots who had not yet learned that Andrew did. not. care. attempted to speak to him. “Major car trouble, you wouldn’t believe.”

“Practice is cancelled.” Andrew said. Firm. Resolute. Dismissive.

This sparked several loud and utterly annoying responses. Andrew itched for his knives. He’d have to pick them up from Betsy. Not yet. He couldn’t talk to her just yet.

“It’s cancelled. Get lost.” Andrew said, threat clear in his voice.

He didn’t wait to see what they did next. Just got in the stupid damn Maserati that stupid fucking Neil bought for him and started driving.

Andrew didn’t know where he was going but the sun was setting in front of him when he became aware of himself once more. He pulled over into a service station, resting his head on the steering wheel as it began to pound. He often got headaches pre and post dissociation. Confusion and drowsiness pooling into thoughts that hurt. His phone buzzed on the passenger seat where it sat next to Neil’s.

He picked them both up. Andrew’s was filled with messages from group.

There was one from Renee, it was only an emoji. But Andrew knew it was a promise. The handshake emoji.

Sad, pathetic ramblings from Nicky that he ignored:

_I hadn’t noticed how long it had been since I’d heard you speak until you were on the phone._

_I’m sorry I should have noticed you were suffering._

_I guess I was so lost in my own grief._

_I should have noticed Andrew, I’m sorry._

Two from Kevin:

_I’ll excuse your absence today, be at practice tomorrow._

Then five minutes later, like an after thought:

_I’m sorry._

Fucking pity. Fuck that and fuck them. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Andrew didn’t want to fucking hear it. Me, my, I’m. Bee really had her work cut out for her with these self-absorbed, self-aggrandising, piece of works.

There was a missed call from Wymack too, and a message. _Talk to Betsy you little shit._

At least there was nothing from Aaron. His doppelganger would seek him out eventually, to talk in person, but at least he had the common decency not to attempt to send words of support or god forbid, call him.

Andrew left the car, filled up the tank, and headed into the gas station, desperate for cigarettes and sugar. His hand trailed over the gummies and other jelly sweets, pausing to grab a bag of gummy bears. Next were the chocolates, a handful of packets of share bags were nabbed before his eyes landed on a bag of dark chocolate buttons. Only 80% but still them temptation to buy them was there. Temptation that he apparently couldn’t ignore, the memory of Neil’s mouth on his after the 90% chocolate incident. Tasting the dark chocolate for himself.

Andrew pointed at the cigarettes he wanted and immediately got carded. Fucker. Since when did service stops give a flying fuck. As he paid Andrew asked, “where am I?”

The cashier raised an eyebrow but said, “Georgia. Between Augusta and Macon, closer to Macon though. Which direction are you headed?”

Andrew didn’t answer. Just grabbed his stuff and left for his car. It seemed his subconscious decided Andrew could just search the lower states himself for one (1) stupid fucking idiotic little rabbit.

He would be driving well into the night to get back to Palmetto. He could always stop and stay at Columbia. He hadn’t been back to the house since the weekend before Neil had been taken. Which meant none of his group had been back to Columbia. Aaron had been happy to spend as much time with his cheerleader and had barely noticed it, Nicky had taken to going out with the upperclassmen on occasion, they mostly drank and told their favourite Neil stories from what Andrew could gather. Kevin hadn’t asked, but he’d had alcohol on hand for most of his grieving period.

Andrew had to pay more attention to get back to South Carolina, his drifting mind wanting to edge him toward turning around. Road signs, SC, focus.

Of course, things were never easy. Upon driving up to the Columbia house he saw Matt’s truck sat outside. On the porch, Aaron and Nicky, both of whom looked up at the sound of the Maserati.

“Oh my god, Andrew! When you didn’t show up we got kind of worried, super worried. Figured you must have come here. Or rather, hoped you did. And here you are.” Nicky said, standing up and rushing forward toward Andrew.

Andrew just kept walking, not bothering to even look at his cousin. Aaron rose too, to come stand in front of Andrew.

“Answer your fucking phone, asshole.” He said, full bite and anger. “I don’t give a shit if you go do your brooding, just let us fucking know you’re alive. In case you forgot, there are two mafia fuckheads out there. One is trying to make your death long and painful.”

Andrew blinked slowly, not letting Aaron in. Not letting him know that Andrew hadn’t thought of the roaming Romero who was out for his blood. Andrew never forgot anything, but that didn’t mean things didn’t slip his mind. And things kept fucking slipping. 

Aaron threw his hands up and stormed inside, Andrew turned to raise an eyebrow at Nicky, who ducked his head but mumbled, “The others are inside.”

Andrew’s jaw clenched. “The others?”

Nicky shuffled his feet. “Uh, yeah, Dan thought it was best if we stuck together for now. Like we did when we got back from Baltimore. It’s just the upperclassmen. The freshmen know somethings up, but not what. We left them to –”

Andrew began walking back into the house, utterly uncaring about the fucking freshmen. As Nicky said, the upperclassmen were all camped out in the living room. The coffee table moved to the edge of the room and the sofa pushed back. Kevin was sat with a bottle in one hand, staring unseeingly at the floor. On blankets and pillows they must have brought from Fox Tower were the upperclassmen. Dan leaning back against the sofa with Matt laying on her chest as she rubbed his back. Allison was pacing back and forth by the wall, Renee sitting and watching her calmly.

“Andrew,” Dan was the first to notice him, sighing in relief. “Thank god.”

Well that was a change. But alas, this change of heart did not make Andrew suddenly grow one. “Get out.”

“It’s not your house, it’s Nicky’s.” Matt shot back, sitting upright.

“I don’t care.” Andrew replied, not pausing as he headed for his room.

Aaron stepped out of the kitchen, glass of what was probably alcohol in hand, effectively blocking Andrew’s path. “Well now we all know that’s a fucking lie now, don’t we?”

“Aaron.” Nicky said, unease flooding into his voice.

“No, no, Nicky. Let’s hear why Andrew gets to have a secret fucking boyfriend, and don’t try and tell me it didn’t mean anything, because we all saw those photos.”

“That were taken without his consent.” Renee said softly.

“How would you feel if it were us, Aaron, in our private moments?” The fucking cheerleader. Aaron brought his cheerleader.

Allison’s voice sounded behind him but Andrew ignored her. “It’s an invasion of privacy but we all fucking saw them anyway. No use denying what we all saw.”

Andrews eyes had turned to the cheerleader as she came out of the kitchen too, her hand holding onto Aaron’s forearm, eyes pleading with him. Pleading with Aaron, for Andrews sake? Well that was rich. Andrew titled his head slowly, causing Aaron to take a step forward.

“I wasn’t going to leave her on campus with a fucking psycho trying to kill us all, Andrew.” He bristled with unrestrained defensiveness. “You’re the one who broke our deal remember? You – oh” Aaron broke himself off, sucking in a sharp breath. “Is that how long you’ve been – how long exactly were you two –”

Andrew moved in a flash, holding his brother against the wall with his forearm against his windpipe. “Stop. Talking.”

The curling anger was reviving in him, he hadn’t felt the need to tear someone apart in so long and now here it was, lashing out at his brother. There were so many objects of Andrew’s rage, so many people on his list to burn. His twin was the unfortunate one to break the damn.

Andrew was barely aware of Katelyn’s gasping pleading, of Nicky’s frantic attempt to talk him down, of Matt shooting up and rushing to Aaron’s aid. Andrew was focussed on the way his twin brother was choking for air, fingernails scrabbling against Andrew’s arms.

Andrew looked into the face of his twin, looked at a copy of his own face gasping for air, seeing the fear in his eyes. It was too close to the turmoil within. It was too damn close to what Andrew kept buried.

Stepping back, he let his twin fall to the floor, Katelyn immediately by his side. Renee only a few steps away, about to intercept but ultimately unneeded. A surprise to both of them it seemed.

“Christ, Andrew.” Matt sighed, rubbing his face.

Dan’s voice joined in with a “You can’t just keep attacking people –”

Andrew didn’t bother to listen. He walked to his room, letting the door slam behind him. Sleep did not come easy, or maybe it did. Maybe he fell asleep quickly, and he was dreaming his room. Or maybe he was still awake, and the demons were real. Was the air really this thick? Did he keep on waking up or had he not fallen asleep at all? It was a long night, and it passed all too quickly. The long drawn out moment of groggy confusion suddenly over with the rise of the sun. Andrew had no idea if he’d rested at all. But it was morning, and outside his door lay vermin known as foxes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not American, google maps told me Georgia is next to South Carolina, that Augusta is on the border, and Macon is bit more central. I guesstimated a route for Andrew. Google said it would take 3hrs 8mins to drive from Columbia to Macon. 6hr round trip roughly. What do I know? Fucking nothing. 
> 
> Sorry Andrew 2.0 it's gonna be a bumpy ride.
> 
> Lemme know what bits stood out to you!


	4. Chapter Four

Andrew got up before the sun rose. He wasn’t sure if how long he’d slept nor how much of it had been actual rest, but he felt like shit. Not in the actively shit way, in the subdued depressing way. Not the way you moan and pump yourself with coffee and sugar, in the I’m-so-tired-I-can-barely-form-thoughts kind of way. And yet, he managed to get up. He managed to put on clothes.

The foxes were still asleep in the living room, he noted. Nicky had joined them on the floor-slash-bed instead of retreating to his room like Aaron and Katelyn to have. Entering the kitchen brought an unwelcome sight of one captain Dan Wilds. She stood staring out the kitchen window, a cup of coffee resting by her hand.

Andrew moved to the pot of coffee.

“It’s cold.” She said, voice rough from lack of sleep.

Andrew didn’t respond, merely reached for the cupboard and took out the coffee to make a new pot.

“Andrew.” Dan took a slow breath. “What do you need from us?”

Andrew’s hand stilled as it reached for a mug. “From you? Nothing.”

Dan turned her head enough to look at him. “I’m not suggesting you need us, or that you ever have. I’m asking what you need from me, specifically, as your captain, for instance, in wrangling the team. Your cousin and brother.”

Normally the suggestion of Wilds taking ownership of Nicky and Aaron would rub Andrew in all the wrong ways. Dig in and root itself, angry and feral. But Andrew was so, so tired.

When he didn’t respond, she continued, “Do you need me to keep everyone away from you until Neil returns? Do you need me to get Renee for you? Do you need me to keep everyone away from you and Aaron, so you can have a talk?”

Andrew blinked, and Dan sighed.

“I’m not saying you say jump and I’ll say how high. I’m saying, I’m willing to recognise your loss too. And I apologise for shutting you and your family out of – well. Everything, I suppose.”

She waited. Andrew blinked again.

“I don’t care.” He said.

“Okay Andrew.” She said softly, turning away and tipping her cold coffee into the sink.

Andrew took down two mugs and poured the now ready hot coffee into each mug. He sugared and milked his and pushed the other one to Dan’s hand next to the sink.

“I won’t answer any of their questions.” He said. _Don’t let them ask me anything._ Went unsaid.

He pretended he didn’t see her surprised smile as she saw the coffee waiting for her, or that he had heard the soft “they won’t ask any.”

Andrew headed out the front door to sit on the porch and smoke. The dawn was stretching across the sky. Disgustingly beautiful. Too many memories of sitting with Neil, watching the sun rise, watching the sun set, watching each other. All too soon, one cigarette turned to two, turned to three. The second one stubbed out half way through, the third one looking to go that way too.

“Nicky this place has no food!”

“We don’t live here full time!”

“You’re college athletes!”

The foxes were stirring. Waking quickly due to Nicky’s lack of volume control. Andrew didn’t move. Waiting for the moment one of them inevitably came to get him. They were neither a caring nor instinctive bunch.

“We deserve answers, Dan.” Allison. Shrill. Annoying. Demanding.

The response was too quiet for Andrew to hear, not that he cared. Curious though, that Wilds was actually keeping her word. Or attempting to.

“That’s bullshit! Respect my fucking ass, when had he ever respected us?”

They continued to make noises as they made food and got dressed. Andrew did his best to ignore them. The Columbia house was never this loud. Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin would usually sleep until mid or late morning. Neil and Andrew would spend the morning in quiet companionship. Drinking tea, coffee, or hot chocolate, depending on what the day called for. Sometimes, Andrew would lead him back to bed and make Neil make quiet noises. Sometimes Neil would look Andrew in such a way that Andrew had to smother his own quiet noises against his lips.

The door opened. Socked feet came to stand next to Andrew. Aaron.

“Are you going to talk to Besty today?” So it was Wednesday.

Andrew didn’t respond.

“I won’t go.” Aaron said, his voice soft and coarse. “If that’ll help you talk to her.”

Andrew didn’t even move.

“Katelyn told me what you said to her that day in the hallway.”

Fucking cheerleader.

“I care about you, Andrew.” The words were so, so quiet. “Yesterday was… it was out of concern. And worry. Or whatever.”

“Seems like you’ve been seeing Betsy outside of our sessions.”

“Yeah and what of it?” Aaron responded. Defensiveness instinctive. “I’m aware I have fucking issues okay. It’s more than you can say.”

Aaron huffed and turned to leave.

“I let you go.” Andrew said.

Aaron paused.

“You look too much like me.”

A truth for a truth.

Aaron didn’t say anything for a long minute before pushing the door open again and going back inside. The noise of the foxes inside increasing momentarily.

The hallway. The hallway and the cheerleader. Andrew knew what Aaron, and by extension the cheerleader, meant. Andrew didn’t talk to the cheerleader often, or at all if he could help it, but it seemed every time he had, he hated what it meant for his life.

The first time was when he allowed her to be with Aaron. Neil hadn’t known what Andrew was planning when he dragged him into the library and handed over his knives. Andrew didn’t enjoy being a hypocrite, and more importantly, didn’t enjoy the way joint therapy meant that he had to hear about his possessive control over his brother.

If he gave Aaron Katelyn, then Aaron owed him. Plain and simple. It had nothing to do with Neil, nor his importance in Andrew’s life. It was about control. He couldn’t control his brother through a deal, but through a sense of owing him something. It had nothing to do with Neil. Neil switching rooms with Aaron was Aaron’s idea and Andrew had nothing to say about it.

The second time Andrew had spoken to Katelyn was after Neil’s supposed death. In the first few weeks of the school year, Neil had mentioned off hand that he supposed he and Katelyn were rather similar. After hearing Andrew mention Aaron’s need to talk about Katelyn in yet another therapy session, Neil just said it.

It seemed he and Katelyn had a class together that semester. It seemed they occasionally talked. Not much, and Neil still didn’t particularly care about her. But ever the instigator, come to the ridiculous conclusion that they shared some similarities. And it seemed Katelyn, in a surprisingly sharp moment for her cheerleader brain, had come to the correct conclusion of the role Andrew and Neil played in each other’s lives.

Then Neil had died. Then Andrew had bumped into her on his way out of his room, as she headed down the hall to Aaron’s room. She had paused, eyes wide. Lightly fearful and subtly pitying.

They had both paused.

“Neil said he thought the two of you were somewhat alike.” Andrew had said.

“I – yes. He mentioned that we – a few things – similar. For you and Aaron.” Her voice, wobbling and shuttered.

“I hope for my brother’s sake he was wrong.” Then Andrew had walked away.

Not before Aaron came out of his room. Not before Aaron had seem them interact. Not before Andrew had seen the softly devastated look on her face.

“What did you say to her?!” Aaron had yelled, his footsteps loud. “Stay the fuck away from her!”

“Aaron!” Katelyn, in defence of Andrew.

“Are you okay? What did he say? I swear to god I’ll –”

“I’m fine, Aaron, I promise. He didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. We were just momentarily surprised to see each other. Aarons it’s –”

And now Aaron knew the truth of the situation. And also knew that Katelyn had known before he had. Known and not told him. Was it lying if it were omission. Perhaps she was like Neil. Omitting truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, forgive me. 
> 
> I feel it needs saying that I don't hate Allison, she's one of my favs. But she's also vocal and Andrew doesn't like he so alas, my fav bitch will bitch away. 
> 
> Would be weird to ask if any lines stick out to you? Like, comment your favourite line below?


End file.
